


Eggnog with Kick

by sammichgirl



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Christmas, M/M, Season 3, Wincest - Freeform, holiday snippet, wincestmas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-08
Updated: 2017-01-08
Packaged: 2018-09-15 15:17:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9241214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sammichgirl/pseuds/sammichgirl
Summary: Season three based Christmas snippet.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Wincestmas 2015 on tumblr as a gift for random-fireworks.

He was so tipsy. Forget tipsy, he was drunk. And he was right on the edge of knowing he was, and falling into the next stage, where everything happened without thought or logic before passing out. He’d needed the extra kick in the eggnog he’d fixed since he’d given in to celebrate this Christmas with Dean. 

His last Christmas with Dean. 

But he wasn’t thinking about that right now. No, he was thinking of how amazingly soft Dean’s lips were, and how they tasted of sweet cinnamon and cream. He heard Dean chuckling into the kiss before he felt himself being pulled back slightly, Dean’s large warm hands cupping his face. “Sammy, you’re drunk, baby.” Sam stared into luminous pine green eyes, eyes that he felt adoring him, and he frowned in confusion as Dean kept speaking, he couldn’t seem to understand a word being said. 

“Sam, you’re talking out loud.” Dean’s lips were moving, and now there was concern on his face, but all Sam could hear was a buzzing whir and suddenly he felt himself falling to the floor, Dean tumbling after him. When Sam opened his eyes, they were laying naked in bed, and Dean was peering at him anxiously, fingers tracing his brow, his lips bitten red with worry. 

“D’n?” Sam felt warm and safe, he could feel he was mostly blanketed by his brother, and the heavy pull of relaxation threatened to pull him back under sleep’s wing. 

“Just a little too much holiday cheer, you passed right out on me, Sammy.” Dean began laying small soft kisses over Sam’s face, watching Sam’s eyes flutter shut, feeling the soft puff of exhaled breath against his own cheeks. Sam mumbled about never having Christmas again and Dean let him fall into slumber, content to caress and map out every inch of Sam’s body in worship, not wanting to bring thoughts of what remained ahead for them both. When Sam woke the following morning, Dean was curled around him, legs and arms entangled with his own and Sam had fleeting memories of a night spent with Dean whispering things to him he’d never utter in the light of day. He was ok with not remembering much else, knowing his own maudlin words would have ruined the evening.


End file.
